


just sing me to sleep

by tea_at_twilight_time



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bathing/Washing, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Issues, Just abuse in general, Lots of Crying, Mental Health Issues, Mommy Issues, More tags to be added, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other, Physical Abuse, Protective Gwen, Protective Max, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Thumb-sucking, Unbeta'ed, Vomiting, also hey guys how many of you remembered that daniel was in this fic, daniel isn't a murderer, david has a lot of issues okay, david is a weepy child okay he has his heart on his sleeve, don't worry i haven't forgotten he's coming back soon lol, everyone loves david tbh, fear wetting, gwen loves and supports her co-counselor, hand holding, i fucking hate mr campbell, max loves and cares about david he's just too petty to admit it, no ma.x.vid we don't play like that, not in the form of cutting but. still, not until a few chapters though, past CSA, someone protect these boys thnx, this is not a nice story lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:37:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_at_twilight_time/pseuds/tea_at_twilight_time
Summary: being mr. campbell's favorite ex-camper is a hard job. that's something david knows firsthand, after years of doing his best to keep the man happy. unfortunately, this devotion comes at a cost to himself, but he's more than happy(?) to pay it.when his coworkers find out about it though, they aren't too pleased. and as they try to help him see that what he has is unhealthy, they find that the road to recovery can be a bit stranger than they anticipated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my first work in this fandom and it's terrible lmao! both content wise and material wise cuz i didn't bother to edit and i was too ashamed to ask my friend to look at it! someone help me :') 
> 
> but! anyway! this is an au where while daniel is still a counselor. so basically he's not a murderer, but still kind of a cult leader? mostly he's just weird and kind of a dick

It's been like this for as long as David could remember. 

Mr. Campbell would have a stressful week, and he'd come back to the camp to see him. He'd always come at five in the morning, because David would be awake and no one else would be. He'd take him to an isolated part of the camp, and David would let him do whatever he wants to him to unwind, no matter what that is. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it makes him want to throw up, David would take it willingly with a smile. 

Because he's Mr. Campbell's favorite camper. Mr. Campbell tells him so. That's why he only does this to him. With him. And David would do anything to make him proud. 

No one was supposed to find out. 

But of course someone does. 

It starts out normally. Mr. Campbell comes and collects him bright and early in the morning, and he takes him out into the woods, back to one of the old abandoned sheds that litter the forest. It's one of those days, then, and David mentally prepares himself for whatever is about to be done. It's fine. 

Unfortunately, it seems like today's going to be a touching day rather than a sucking day. But that's fine! He's okay with that! All he has to do is stand there and take it, pretending to react when he's supposed to, it's not like he has to do much! It's just...touching days usually last longer, and they usually hurt more. But that's alright, it's alright, it really is, he's a big boy and he can handle it! No reason to be upset or scared! No reason at all! 

It's his fault they get caught. Mr. Campbell bites him a little hard, but it's not nearly as hard as he could've done, or even has done in the past, but David is weak, weak weak weak, and he lets out a small cry that's much, much too loud. 

It would've been fine, but for some reason, stupid Daniel is in the area doing whatever the heck his stupid self does at five in the morning, and next thing David knows, the door is swinging open and there he is, standing there, staring them down with his stupid, suspicious eyes. He's also covered in dirt. 

The next few moments are a blur. It's hard enough for David to keep track of things during Mr. Campbell's visits, but adding another person to the mix made things worse. He must've blacked out, because the next thing he knows, Mr. Campbell is gone, and there's someone kneeling in front of him, tugging his shorts back up his waist. Daniel, he realizes, his brain still fuzzy. He's humming something to him. It's almost kind of soothing. Almost. 

"What happened?" he eventually brings himself to ask, his voice soft and strained. "Where...M-Mister..." 

"He fled," Daniel says simply, snapping the button of David's shorts back closed. "Not before stammering something I couldn't make out, however." 

"He left me?" David's confused. He doesn't know why, though. It's not like Mr. Campbell has never left him before, because he has, all the time, actually. Even during times like these. He'd just leave him there in a puddle of fluids to clean himself up. He especially used to do that back when David was a kid, before he realized that seven year olds didn't realize the importance of cleaning semen thoroughly out of their clothing before approaching other people. Other people who may notice and try to figure out their little secret. 

"Mhmm. He did," Daniel says plainly, lightly brushing some dirt off of his shirt. "I wonder why. It's almost as if he was doing something wrong that he didn't want anyone else to know about." 

There's a knowing, almost bitter edge to his voice, as if he knows exactly what had been going on. Not wanting him to get the wrong idea, David opens his mouth to speak, but instead, he gags and he clasps his hand over his mouth. There's bitter bile gathering in the back of his throat, and he could feel himself starting to panic because oh god, he doesn't wanna throw up all over himself again, especially this time since there's someone here to see him. 

"Hmm?" Daniel glances up at him, before a knowing look comes across his face. "Oh. Here, friend." He grabs a bucket sitting next to him and hands it over, offering an oddly unhappy smile as David pulls it into his lap and retches. "I'll take you back to your cabin once you're done vomiting. I'm assuming you don't want to be here anymore." 

David spits and coughs, sputtering out saliva and mucusy bile. He shakes his head vigorously, tears welling up in his eyes. "No...no, gotta stay here..." he mumbles, his stomach cramping painfully. "He's gonna wanna finish. If...if he comes back. He'll be mad if I'm not here." 

"David. Come on. Don't do this." 

There's a firmness in his voice. It makes David flinch. 

"I can't...he needs me...he'll be back for me, I'm sure of it..." he whimpers, and he refuses to look Daniel in the eyes. His whole body is aching, and he feels nauseous, so, so nauseous, but he knows he needs to be here. They've never left a, er, session unfinished before, so Mr. Campbell would probably be back. And he wouldn't be happy if David isn't here when he comes back. 

"I think he'll be fine without you," Daniel says as he reaches over and carefully removes the bucket from David's arms. He sets it a bit away from the two of them, and he reaches over and scoops him up, helping him to his feet. "Come on. You smell like urine and vomit. You're unclean and in severe need of a shower." 

"U-urine...?!" He shifts his legs and, oh...yeah...there's a wetness in between his thighs. "Wh-when did I...?" 

Wetness starts to gather on his cheeks as well. Numb. He feels so numb. He grabs onto Daniel's arm, his legs trembling violently. He hates when he loses control of his body like this. It happens sometimes, after these visits, especially if it's a particularly exhaustive one. He guesses this counts as particularly exhaustive. 

Daniel starts to lead him out of the shed, and David freezes in terror. He squeezes his companion's arm tightly and grinds his heels into the dirt. 

"W-wait!" he stammers out, his heart pounding violently in his chest. Everything is too much right now. He just wants to curl up in a ball and sleep, but there's something weighing on his mind. "I really can't leave...what if he comes back and I'm not there? He'll be mad at me. Really, really mad." 

Daniel stops and simply stares at David for a moment, before a small, almost dangerous smile spreads across his face. "Oh, don't worry about that, alright? I'll take care of all that." He places a sturdy arm around David's side, before suddenly scooping him up into his arms. "Sorry about the dirt. We'll get you clean when we get back." He smiles, and it feels like his first genuine smile of the day. "Everything's going to be fine. I promise. Now let's get you home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have another haphazardly thrown together chapter

The journey back to camp is a blur, and David thinks he must've blacked out again, because he vaguely remembers someone helping him in the shower, and...that's it. 

Somehow, he ends up in bed, someone else's shirt covering his torso. He knows it's not his own because it smells...off. It smells kind of like soil and just a little bit like blood, but mostly it smells like rosewater. It isn't Gwen's shirt either. 

In speaking of Gwen, when he wakes up, she's on the bed next to him. She's sitting by his feet, her phone in one hand, her other hand resting on his knee. He's curled up on his side, and his thumb has somehow found its way into his mouth. He flushes in embarrassment and pulls it out, wiping his saliva on his blanket. 

His movements attract Gwen's attention, and she turns to look at him. "Oh hey, you're awake. Hi David," she says, giving him a small, fake-looking smile. "How're you feeling?" 

There's a look in her eyes that tells him that Daniel must've told her some of what had happened. It's fine, though. David doesn't care. 

He doesn't. 

Really. 

"How're the campers? Are they okay?" he asks, his voice thick and trembling with the effort. He doesn't want to think about himself. The kids have always been so much more important than him, they're the whole reason he powers through these days with a smile when all he wants to do is curl up in a ball and cry. 

Gwen gives him a look like she knows what he's doing, knows what tricks he's playing. He's being genuine, though, he needs to know they're alright, he can't carry on if they aren't alright, he needs them to be alright. He gives her sad, desperate eyes, begging for her to tell him, and she sighs, shaking her head. 

"They're fine, hon. Daniel's looking after them," she says, giving his knee a gentle pat. "I think they just finished their morning activities, so they're probably going to lunch now." 

Huh? "Lunch...?" Already? How long has he slept? 

"Yee-up," Gwen says, a worried look on her face. She isn't even trying to hide it. "You slept for a long time, babe. By the way, are you hungry?" 

David swallows, and glancing down at his lap. He shakes his head, his stomach twisting violently at the thought of food. "I'm sorry..." he mumbles, he's not sure why, but he feels as though he's disappointed her. 

"Hey, don't be. I...can't blame you," she says, and when he looks up at her, she's looking down at her lap, biting hard onto her lip. "Daniel told me...some of what happened. You should know that, I mean, it’s your business he blabbed off to me. S-so, I do know about...um...” She swallows, looking down at her lap with a guilty look. Guilty because she knows now? Guilty because she couldn’t stop it from happening? She herself isn’t even sure. 

David doesn't know what to say to that. It’s all so foreign and confusing, and he can feel his head spinning painfully. She knows. What can he say to that? He defaults to what he knows best. "I'm sorry." 

It's like he can see the moment her heart breaks. “Oh god, David, sweetie, it’s okay, it’s really okay,” she assures him, a weak, weak smile on her face. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She reaches over and places her hand over his in a way that’s obviously meant to being reassuring, touching him very lightly, almost as if she’s scared to startle him. 

He still startles a little anyway. Because he’s a stupid idiot. 

Her face falls and she starts to draw away, obvious guilt on her face and an apology on the tip of her tongue. Panic quickly rises into his throat like bile, and he grabs onto her hand tightly, a soft whimper escaping the back of his throat. The last thing he needs right now is for her to be afraid to touch him. 

“Please…” he murmurs, his voice breaking as he speaks. “I-I'm sorry, just...please…” 

Gwen just stares at him for a moment, before a sad smile crawls across her face. She gives his hand a gentle squeeze in turn and murmurs, “Okay.” 

They just sit there, and they hold hands. 

It's the most peace David has felt in a long, long while.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things get a little worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love max and david's relationship. i feel like they're both protective of each other in like, a brotherly way mostly because david can flip from dad mode to little brother mode in like 0.2 seconds 
> 
> anyway yeah

Of course, the peaceful mood is soon broken by Max, charging in with an angry, angry look on his face. He also looks a bit confused, and maybe kind of hurt. It makes David wince. 

"There you are!" he shouts as he bursts into the cabin, the door slamming hard against the wall. "David, what the hell?!" 

The loud noises startle him, and David jumps, suddenly trembling all over. He tries to tell himself he's just startled. Really, he feels terrified. 

"Max! What the actual fuck?! You can't just barge in here like that!" Gwen hisses, immediately getting to her feet to challenge the boy. "What are you doing here anyway-!" 

"I'm looking for David, what does it look like fuckface?" he hisses, his hands curling into fists. "I've been stuck with fucking Daniel all day, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" He turns his attention on David, scowling deeply at him. “Where the hell were you this morning? You've never skipped a day without at least telling us about what you're doing! What's going on here?!” He squints his eyes at him, suspicion in his eyes. “Did you get fucking dumped again?” 

David flinches. He can’t think about relationships right now, especially not...that one. Bonquisha deserves better than someone who can’t even get hard without getting a panic attack. 

“Max!” Gwen’s shout snaps him out of his thoughts, her voice shrill with emotion. “Leave him alone, he doesn't have to explain anything-!” 

“N-no, Gwen, he's right,” David jumps in, guilt clear on his face. The two others turn to stare at him, looking surprised that he actually spoke up. 

Gwen bites her lip, wringing her hands together. “David, sweetie, hey…” 

Max looks up at her in confusion at the pet name, and it's clear that he's not sure what to make of it. Gwen didn't usually use nicknames in general, let alone nicknames like that. He hops up on the bed to stare David down, silently demanding answers. 

David swallows and looks away, waving a dismissive hand at Gwen’s concerned face. "Gwen, please…” He sighs, chewing hard on his lip, determined to break skin. “I-I'm sorry, Max. You're right. You deserve an explanation, and I wish I could give one to you...still, I should at least get - get out of bed and start actually doing my job, I…” 

He mumbles this as he attempts to get out of bed, his legs weak and shaking like jello. He grits his teeth, why is he so pathetic, what’s wrong with him? Why couldn’t he even get out of his stupid bed? Frustrated, he throws his blanket off, and he freezes. 

And why wouldn't he? There are bruises littering his thighs, mostly gathered on the inside, up close to his crotch. They're shaped like fingertips, and there are scratches too, most likely caused by nails being dragged down his skin. His heart leaps into his throat, and he makes a soft, choking sound. How didn't he notice them...? Now that he's looking at them they hurt like hell, but before that, it was like they weren't even there. How hadn’t he felt them before? What is happening to him? His breath starts to come much too short, and tears well up in his eyes, his fingers curling tightly into his blanket. 

"D-David...?" Max asks, his voice suddenly quiet and shaky, and David looks up at him in surprise. He had forgot that Max is still there, and his heart immediately breaks upon seeing his expression. All of his bravado, his anger...it's gone, replace with terror, disgust, and confusion. "Wh-what the hell...? What...what the fuck is all that?!" 

 

Immediately, David drops the blanket back over his legs. “Oh, gosh, M-Max, I-I’m sorry you had to see that, I didn’t…” he tries to say, but he’s failing, failing, failing. He drops his face into his hands to hide the tears spilling over his cheeks, the beginnings of sobs causing his shoulders to tremble. He can't hold it together now, not even for Max’s sake, and his chest is so, so tight. 

Gwen approaches the bed, a concerned frown on her face. She places a hand on Max’s back, her voice low and gentle. “Hey...maybe you should get going now, David will be back counseling soon, okay?” 

Max is quiet for a moment, seeming to consider her words. 

“Max, please...you shouldn't see this…” 

She's right, of course, and David wishes Max would just go. 

But he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. He shakes her off, his glare returning with a new ferocity. There's a messy cluster of emotions in his eyes, but David isn't so sure that all of them are directed at him anymore. “No! No, I need fucking answers, what the hell is going on here?!” Max bursts out, his voice shaking with frustration. “What’s wrong with David’s legs?! What the fuck happened?! Who made those fucking marks?!” He stomps across the bed over to David, his hands clenched tightly into fists. Automatically, David puts his hands up, waiting for the inevitable pain to come. 

It doesn’t. After a moment, he shakily lowers his hands and looks back up. He finds Max standing above him, tears rolling down his cheeks and a hollow expression on his face. Gwen is holding onto the back of his sweatshirt, seeming just as surprised to see this as David is. They both thought he was going to hit him. But he didn't. 

Slowly, she loosens her grip on the boy, and he crumbles, collapsing to his hands and knees. He stays there for a moment, and it's quiet, save for David's soft sniffling. Eventually, Max gets back to his feet and he suddenly lurches forward, wrapping his arms around David's neck as a soft sob escapes his tiny, trembling form. 

“David…” he murmurs, and there are tears rolling down his cheeks, David can feel them against the side of his neck. “What happened…? Did...did someone…” 

Something heavy settles in on the bed next to them, and Gwen’s arms come to wrap around them both. David doesn't dare to look up at her, to look at either of them. It would break him. Instead, he keeps his face buried in Max’s hair, feeling guilty as the tears dripped onto his head. 

None of them know what to do. None of this was supposed to happen. There’s a heavy weight in David’s chest. It’s bad enough that Daniel and Gwen saw him like this, but Max…Max is so much worse. He’s just a child. 

This is inexcusable. Unforgivable. David can’t make himself stop crying. 

“M-Max...I’m sorr-” 

“Just shut up David. Shut up.” Max hisses and holds him a little tighter. Gwen is still quiet. In shock, maybe. 

Okay then. Maybe David’ll be quiet too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this might be longer than i originally intended. hmm


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> david and max have a heart to heart 
> 
> and then david's bladder fucking ruins everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, some real fucking age play content 
> 
> warning for wetting, discussion of rape, and self harm y'all

“David, stop gnawing at your hand like that.” 

 

David obliges, pulling his hand out of his mouth with a guilty look. “Sorry, Max,” he concedes, ducking his head in shame as if he’s the child and Max is punishing him. 

 

It’s forty-five minutes since their collective, group cry session had started, and everyone’s absolutely exhausted. David’s pretty sure that Gwen is asleep, or, at the very least, on her way there, judging by how she’s stretched out next to them, her arm thrown over her eyes. Good for her, David thinks. She deserves some rest. 

 

Max just sighs and shakes his head, reaching over to give his arm a gentle nudge with his knuckles. It’s not quite a punch. It’s kinder than that. “God, David, don’t be that way. I just don’t want you to get spit all over your hand, it’s fucking gross.” 

 

“I…” David starts, but he flounders immediately. He doesn’t understand. “Be what way?” he finally asks, his voice meek and sad. He grabs the pillow behind him and holds it to his chest, clinging onto it as if it’s a stuffed animal. 

 

Max stares blankly at him for a moment, watching him as he holds onto the thing. “...man, I don’t know.” He sounds frustrated. He flops onto his back with a groan, which makes Gwen huff and twitch a little. “Don’t...be all sad and guilty and shit. You look like a kicked puppy. It makes me sick.” 

 

It goes quiet for a moment as David tries to process Max’s words. He still doesn’t understand. He buries his nose into the pillow, his big eyes poking out over the top of it. 

 

Apparently, Max doesn’t like that. “Oh my  _ god _ , you’re doing it again.” Max sits up, his face scrunched up in a scowl. “Just relax, okay? I’m not fucking mad at you, I just told you to stop doing something. You don’t have to look at me like I’m gonna beat your ass for it.” 

 

David stares at him, blinking childishly. Max looks uncomfortable, his face screwed up in a grimace, and his eyes cast down. He’s rubbing his arm as if it’s sore, and David can’t help but wonder, did he get hurt somehow? 

 

After a moment, Max looks back up at him, and there’s an odd sort of softness in his eyes. He shifts over to sit next to him once again, and he wraps his arms around his waist in a comforting, almost protective gesture. David can’t help but melt into it, curling in on himself as if in a desperate attempt to make himself smaller. His attempts make Max laugh and give him a gentle pat, before he goes quiet again. 

 

“...I’m not a monster, David,” Max finally says, and suddenly, he sounds so much older than ten years old. It makes David feel guilty, and he tries to pull away, but Max just holds on tighter. “I know what those marks mean. Someone hurt you, and made you...” He trails off. 

 

David flinches. “Nhh nnh…” he says, a weak attempt to say ‘nuh uh’, but his mouth won’t form the vowel sounds. He doesn’t want to believe it. Max is just a kid, just like he is. Was. He shouldn’t know about...that, yet, unless...

 

“I mean, it - not because someone - I mean, it almost happened, but…” Max stammers, and David looks up at him in horror with big, watery eyes. Max chokes, immediately looking away and clearing his throat. “I was smarter than them. My aunt, uh...she was a social worker, and she used to live with us. She used to tell me horror stories about that kinda shit all the time. It wasn’t pleasant, but it saved my ass a few times, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.” 

 

Oh. Looking down at his fingers, David pinched at the blanket around his legs, biting down on his lip. “‘m so’ry, Maxy,” he slurs, his tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth. He feels tired. Babyish. Max hugging him is nice, though. It makes him feel like he has a friend. Max understands, if only a little. Max isn’t judging him, even though he could, even though he has every opportunity to. 

 

Max gives him a small sigh, his lips twitching into a sad little smile, if only for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, my life is fucking awful, whatever. What else is new?” he says, shrugging a little, his voice carrying a forced levity. He’s tired, it shows plainly on his face. “...also, don’t call me Maxy. We are  _ not _ at the nickname stage in our relationship.” 

 

Even though it’s supposed to be a joke, that comment makes David frown. He hadn’t even realized that he’d called him that. It’d just kinda slipped out. “Oh…didn’ mean’ta, Max.’m so- ” 

 

He stops suddenly, suddenly aware of a pressure building up in his lower abdomen. It’s not a slight nagging sensation, either - it’s a painful, pressing urge, as if he’s been holding it for hours. He pulls away from Max, intent on getting to the bathroom, but before he knows it, there’s a warm, wet puddle spreading across his crotch, running down his thighs and soaking into the bedsheets. 

 

For a moment, everything is still. David’s eyes flit over to Max, who’s staring back at him with wide, shocked eyes. Gwen twitches. 

 

“...David?” she murmurs, lifting her head up to look at him. “What - ” 

 

Before he even realizes it, David is running. He doesn’t remember how he got out of the bed, all he knows is that he’s racing into the bathroom before he can face them, face either of them. He slams the door behind him and locks it, before dropping to the floor. He pulls his legs up to his chest and rests his chin on his knees. It’s gross, and he’s chafing, and it hurts and itches something awful. He can’t bring himself to care. 

 

Gwen and Max follow soon after. He can hear their footsteps at the door, and he wishes that they’d just leave him. Gwen knocks, and he wants to scream at her to just go  _ away _ . 

 

“David? Buddy? Hey,” Gwen says, and her voice is painfully gentle. He almost hates her for it. 

 

Max’s response is less gratingly soft, but it still makes him flinch. 

 

“Jesus christ, David, if you had to piss, you could’ve just said so, you didn’t have to wet the fucking bed,” he says, and it’s obvious that he’s trying to make a joke out of it, but he can’t quite hide the discomfort and anxiety in his voice. 

 

David can’t bring himself to reply. He lets out a soft whimper and wipes frantically at his eyes, trying to stop the tears before they came. It’s a battle that he’s quickly losing, however, and quite frankly, he’s not sure where these goddamn tears keep coming from. Damn his obsessive hydration habits… 

 

“Go ‘way,” he whines, his voice cracking a little. “‘m bad...don’ talk t’me…” 

 

A little sigh comes from the other side of the door, but no sounds of footsteps leaving him. Why are they still here? What are they doing? 

 

“Oh, David…it's okay...” Gwen's soft voice murmurs, and it's supposed to be reassuring. 

 

But it isn't, and he can't stop a sob from escaping him, because  _ no _ , it freaking  _ isn't _ okay, none of this is. He shakes his head, before banging the back of his head against the door. It hurts. So he does it again. And again. And again. 

 

Gwen's voice returns once again, this time a startled shout of, “Wha-...David! The fuck are you doing in there?!” 

 

“Hey!” Max scolds as well, almost immediately. It's as if it's a reflex for him. “What the fuck! Stop that!” 

 

For a moment, their voices are able to startle him out of his self destruction. He goes quiet, feeling the self hatred, guilt and frustration building up in his chest. 

 

The moment doesn't last long. He can only take so much, and he lets out a soft little cry, pulling at his hair and continuing to slam his head against the door. 

 

“Shit, okay, David? David, that's enough,” Gwen says, and her voice is stern yet shaky. She's scared for him, and she tries the door, futilely twisting the knob and trying to push the door open. “Open the door. I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself in there.” 

 

He shakes his head again. “No! No no no…” he moans, choking on his sobs as he speaks. He's just barely comprehensible, tripping over his tongue like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. 

 

“David, this is nonnegotiable. Unlock the fucking door. You don't have to hurt yourself over this.” 

 

Determinedly, David ignores Gwen's firm command, insistent on continuing with his behavior. What did she know anyway? He needs to be punished for this, didn't she understand that? Is he the only one with some goddamn sense - 

 

“Fuck,  _ David _ ! Stop it, you're fucking scaring me!” 

 

Max's panicked voice freezes him in his tracks, and he blinks away a wall of tears that had been clouding his vision. They promptly roll down his cheeks, joining the others that have fallen in staining his face with salty, sticky tracks of wetness. He lets his hands fall from his hair, and he pants for breath, desperately swallowing down oxygen to try and suppress the oncoming sobs. 

 

Max...he scared...Maxy is… 

 

Shakily, he gets to his feet and unlocks the door, his thumb slipping into his mouth. He peeks out at the two of them, his legs shaking. Gwen's face is a shade paler than usual. Max is crying. 

 

“You...you stupid…” Max says weakly, his voice cracking with each syllable. “What...what the fuck were you trying to…” He looks up at him, and then his eyes widen a bit. He laughs weakly, wiping at his eyes and shaking his head. “I thought I told’ya not to put your fingers in your mouth…” 

 

Gwen smiles at that, very shakily, before reaching forward to gently squeeze David's arm. “Come on. Let's just...let's clean you up, okay?” 

 

For a moment, David looks in between the two of them. He doesn't understand. They had just been yelling at him a few minutes ago. He'd made Maxy  _ cry _ . Why are they smiling at him now? Why are they so happy to see him? 

 

He shakes his head. 

 

“No? You don't wanna get cleaned up?” Gwen's face has fallen, though her hand is still firmly placed on his arm. 

 

“Is it cuz I'm here?” Max asks, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable. “I could leave…” 

 

David shakes his head again, though to what, it isn't exactly clear. He feels dumb, and his tongue is still heavy in his mouth. He doesn't know what he wants, much less how to ask for it. 

 

The next thing he knows, he's crying again. 

 

“Aww, David,” Gwen says softly, and she and Max share a long look. It must be meaningful in some way, but David can't decipher what the two are saying to each other. He's never been good with social cues, but for some reason, it's even harder now. 

 

“I can take care of the sheets if you like. You know, so you can try and wrestle this one into a B-A-T-H,” Max says, and David's face scrunches up into a little frown. 

 

It's stupid and pathetic, but David has never been good with letters and numbers, and he's struggling to put the letters together into a comprehensible word. The effort makes his brain hurt. He starts to cry harder. 

 

“Oh, I don't think we need to resort to spelling it out,” Gwen says, giving David's arm a little squeeze. He pouts, and she pulls him in close, letting him hide his face in the crook of her neck. She continues to speak, her voice soft with worry. “Max, you know, you don't have to stay. You're just a kid...” 

 

David's head feels fuzzy, and he reaches up to curl his fingers into the fabric of Gwen's shirt. He barely registers the rest of Gwen and Max's words. It feels like something he shouldn't worry about. He’s too small...what does he know anyway...he’s just a stupid baby...a stupid baby who can’t stop crying…he doesn’t deserve Max and Gwen’s kindness. 

 

He wishes that he were alone. He wants to make himself  _ hurt _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey i don't have a tumblr yet but please feel free to scream headcanons at me in the comments below please i'll take anything 
> 
> also david totally has dyslexia fucking fight me on this fight mE


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> david gets a bath. 
> 
> but of course, it's more complicated than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um hey so i've noticed that there are some m//ax//vid shippers following this story?? and uh i don't care for that shit at all?? so if you support that shit then please fuck off and also die thanks 
> 
> okay now that THAT'S out of the way 
> 
> i have some dope-ass news! the first piece of news is that i will never be using the term "dope-ass" ever again. 
> 
> the second piece of news is that this fic now has an official playlist! feel free to check it out in the end notes down below! 
> 
> well, i think that covers everything up here. on with the actual chapter! which is a lot sadder in tone than this notes section, of course. brace yourselves.

The water is warm against his skin. Soothing. The scent of baby shampoo wafts down into his nose as it’s worked into his hair, and he sighs softly, resting his chin on his hands on the edge of the tub. Gwen’s fingers are unbelievably gentle and thorough as she runs them through his locks, and David’s completely melting into the touch. 

 

He hasn’t had many good experiences with baths, so he’s not quite sure if Gwen is even doing it right. His mother had always been more concerned with getting it done quick than she was with it being a nice experience for the two of them, so it’s odd to him that it’s so calming and slow. He usually finds this process to be more...fast and borderline violent. Sometimes it had felt like the only times she would bathe him were when she was angry with him. 

 

This is a nice change of pace, however, if he’s being honest. Gwen is too nice to him, far nicer than he deserves. He’ll have to make it up to her somehow. She probably expects something in return. For now, though, he’ll gladly soak up every ounce of gentleness like the greedy, useless weakling that he is. 

 

“You look so content.” Gwen's voice pulls him out of his daze, and he looks up at her with warm, hazy eyes. She's smiling down at him, a slight sadness in her gaze, and she pushes his bangs out of his face. “What's on your mind?” 

 

David blinks slowly at her, making a quiet, almost purring sound, from deep in his throat. “‘m thinkin’ bout how y’re bein’ so nice’ta me,” he mumbles, his voice soft and crackly from crying so much. “Fingers so nice…” 

 

Gwen chuckles a little, and she presses a kiss to her fingertip and taps it against his forehead. “Good. I'm trying to be as gentle as I can be…” she murmurs, before a small sigh escapes her. “I need to rinse your hair soon. You okay with me washing your body, or would you like to do that yourself?” 

 

...ah, right. This has to be where the pain and discomfort comes in, right? David winces, but he leans back in the tub to expose his chest and belly to her, as well as...other things, his eyes averted from her face. “You...y’c’n wash me, if you wanna…’s-’s okay,” he says, his voice shaky. 

 

She blinks, her eyes widening. Her eyes seem focused on his face, which is kind of odd to him, though they do make a cursory glance over his body. “D-David, hey, sweetie, really...if you want to wash yourself that's totally fine.” 

 

David whines, and he subconsciously spreads his legs even farther, as if offering himself to her. If he would’ve been able to realize what he’s doing, he would’ve thrown up. “N-no! Really ok’y…” Despite his words, his entire body is shaking violently, and he's whimpering softly. “N-not really ‘pposed’ta do it m’self an’way…” 

 

That makes Gwen frown even deeper. She swallows, hard, her face turning a shade paler than usual. “I...don't really understand…what do you mean by that?” 

 

He makes a soft, sad little noise, screwing his eyes shut. “Mr. Campbell don’ like it when I bathe m’self…says is waste ‘f opp-oppa...opp-ah-tun-iddie?” The word is hard on his lazy tongue and fuddled brain, and he whines, frowning a little. He repeats it, trying to make it more understandable. “Opp-ah-tun-iddie. T’touch me.” 

 

She’s quiet for a moment. 

 

“...ah.” She sounds kind of nauseous. “Um, well. I can leave if you'd be more comfortable…” 

 

_ That’s _ what makes him break down and panic. Immediately, his eyes widen to the size of balloons, and he chokes, a lump rising in his throat. “No! No no no,” he cries, sitting up in a panic and grabbing onto her shirt weakly. “No, please, no leave, no leave…!” He starts to hyperventilate, his fuzzy brain immediately becoming more muddled at the thought of being abandoned. He's small and weak and so, so scared. He needs her kindness and gentle touches and protection. If Mr. Campbell comes back, he won't be able to defend himself. He needs her there to keep him  _ safe _ . 

 

Choking a little, Gwen reaches down and wraps her fingers tenderly around David’s surprisingly slender hands, and carefully pulls them off of her shirt. She continues to hold them in her grasp, giving them a squeeze. “O-okay, David. Calm down, buddy. It's okay. I'm not gonna leave you if you don't want me to,” she reassures him, bringing up one of his hands and brushing her lips across the back of his knuckles. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

 

That gesture of gentle affection soothes him more than her words do, and he relaxes a little, letting his eyes flutter closed. A few tears roll down his cheeks, but he feels Gwen’s thumbs wipe them away, and it makes warmth spread through his chest. He leans into her hands even further and allows himself to relax a little, a soft, contented little sound escaping his throat, similar to the purr from before. 

 

A soft chuckle rumbles through Gwen's chest, and she shakes her head, a sad smile on her face. “There you go. Are you feeling a little better?” 

 

He's quiet for a bit, before nodding, nuzzling his cheek into her palm. “Gwe’,” he murmurs, his voice incredibly soft. 

 

“Yeah,” she murmurs back. “That’s me. I’m here.” 

 

They're both quiet for a moment. 

 

Then, Gwen says, “We still have to wash your body, you know.” 

 

David whimpers, shaking his head a little, earning a soft sigh from her. She pulls him up into her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his head since he seemed to like the light kiss to his knuckles from earlier. Then, immediately, she makes a sputtering noise, apparently having forgotten that she had just shampooed his hair not even five minutes ago. Despite himself, David giggles a little at her plight. 

 

“Oh yeah, hardy har, laugh it up,” she says teasingly, rolling her eyes. “Gwen got soap in her mouth, hahaha.” 

 

This just makes David giggle even more, and soon, Gwen’s chuckling along with him. It’s nice, and it’s obvious that both of them needed that laugh so damn badly. 

 

Soon however, they fall to silence, only the soft sound of their panted breaths audible. Then, after a moment, she slowly says, “...so, you don't want to wash yourself, is what I'm hearing. But me washing you also makes you nervous. Is that right?” 

 

Well, when she puts it that way, it sounds needlessly difficult. He whines again, nodding slightly. “I sorry…” 

 

“No, no. It's okay, baby, I get it. Kinda,” she says, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “But there has to be a way around this.” 

 

David bites his lip, squirming a little in the water. “...really gotta be wash?” 

 

Gwen sighs a little. “ _ Yes _ , David. You need wash. It’s not even just the accident. You’re all sweaty and yucky. I honestly don't think Daniel helped you wash properly, probably because you were out of it and he didn’t want to violate your privacy. Which is good, but you still stink and need cleaned,” she says, before going quiet again, humming a little in thought. Then, finally, she says, “Okay, here's an idea. How about I wash the upper part of your body, and leave it to you to wash yourself down there? And of course if I ever make you uncomfy you can tell me so I can stop. Would that be a good solution?” 

 

That prompts David to look up at her, his eyes big and confused. He...he’s not used to this. He’s not used to people caring about whether or not he feels comfortable, or safe, or hell, even  _ clean _ . It’s enough to make him tear up once again, and he whimpers, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and choking out a soft sob. He nods slightly, his fingers curling into her shirt. 

 

“Y-y-y…” he tries to choke out, but his throat feels oddly blocked. He settles for just nodding again, a bit more intensely this time. He pulls away slightly, scrubbing weakly at his eyes. “T’ank you, Mama…” 

 

The word escapes his lips before he can stop it, and his eyes widen in terror. For a moment, he just stares at Gwen with wide eyes, fear making his chest tighten painfully. He waits for her to yell at him, strike him, anything. He knows that every time when he tried to referred to Mr. Campbell as something more paternal back when he’d been young and stupid, the man would always get really weird about it. Even his own mother seemed to hate being called by such endearing terms. So, wouldn't Gwen be upset as well? Wouldn't she be just as mad at him? 

 

Apparently not. Or, at least, she's better at hiding it. Despite the fact that she has the perfect opportunity to punish him, she doesn’t. She just smiles softly at him, grabbing his strawberry honey vanilla scented body wash and a washcloth. 

 

Then she says something confusing. 

 

“Mama, huh? That's a new one.” She shoots him an amused, adoring smile as she says it. 

 

He tilts his head at her. He’s not sure why she’s not more upset about this. His eyes follow her hands as she scrubs some soap into the washcloth, his eyes still wide with anxiety. “Hhhh…?” he slurs, swallowing down a lump rising in his throat. 

 

The washcloth lands lightly on his chest, and he tenses for a moment, before forcing himself to relax once again. Gwen bites her lip, before offering him a soft, sad smile. 

 

“Nothing, it's just...no one's ever called me that before,” she says, shaking her head a bit. “I think that’s kinda surprising, considering that we work with kids all day, but…” She shrugs. “It’s kinda nice. I don’t know.” 

 

David swallows again, tears welling up in his eyes. Kinda...nice? Does she really mean all that? He doesn’t know. He’s scared to ask. The washcloth runs so soothingly over his chest up to his shoulder and he bites back a cry. 

 

“Oh David…” Gwen says, and it’s clear she’s physically fighting back a lump in her throat. “Do you need me to stop…?” 

 

Tears start to stream down his cheeks as she pauses, the washcloth hovering just above his skin. He shakes his head, leaning back into her hand with a whimper. “Mama…” he whispers. Then, a little louder, he repeats, “Mama…” 

 

Gwen still looks hesitant, a frown on her face. However, her expression has softened, and she reaches up to cup his cheek. “Baby…my baby,” she says, before her expression falls into one of surprise. Almost like she hadn’t expected herself to say that. However, she soon shakes herself out of it, and murmurs, “Is that what you need right now, David? A mama?” 

 

Immediately, his eyes go wide, the implication behind her question clear. He doesn’t even hesitate in his response. He chokes, and he stumbles, but he doesn’t hesitate. “Y-you don’t got-got-gotta do...‘m not y’ resp-eponsib-…Gwe’, ‘m no’...” he stammers, his throat suddenly feeling tight. 

 

“Hey. David.” Gwen interrupts as she grabs his hands, giving them a small squeeze. “Breathe, honey. Listen...I was literally  _ just _ bathing you. Like, not even two minutes ago. Does it really seem like I don’t want to look after you?” She smiles, a weak yet comforting gesture, and then reaches behind her and grabs some toilet paper to wipe his face. “Relax, okay? It’s alright.” 

 

“...’t is?” he asks softly, and his eyes scrunch closed as she wipes at them. He’s physically exhausted, and suddenly, all of that fear is replaced with the need for sleep. He could barely fight back against her anyway, even if he really wanted to, and as the panic drains out of him, he’s left with a painful heaviness in his body. All he wants to do to is rest. 

 

“Yeah. It is. It’s okay,” Gwen says, wiping at his nose a bit before wrapping up the paper and throwing it away. “It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong or anything. Promise.” She reaches out, embracing him and more or less holding his tired body upright. After a moment of quiet between them, she speaks up again. “You never answered my question, you know.” She tilts her head. “ _ Is _ that what you need right now…?” 

 

David fiddles with his fingers. He’s too tired to speak, but not too tired to answer. He nods. 

 

Gwen beams, like she had been anticipating that response. “Yeah, I kind of thought so,” she says, her voice light, almost delicate. She picks up the washcloth again, and soon, it’s once again running down his neck and chest. Involuntarily, he shivers, but when she pauses, he just shakes his head. It isn’t because of her, and there’s no genuine fear in the twitch. It’s just a reflex, one he’d unfairly gained through past experiences, nothing more, nothing less. She seems to understand this, and for that, he’s grateful. He doesn’t want her to stop because of something so silly. 

 

Everything else feels too nice for him to be set off into another anxious episode anyway, even if it had been causing him some small amount of stress. One of Gwen’s hands is gently scrubbing at his neck with the washcloth, and the other is supporting him, keeping him upright. It feels oddly comforting to be held up like this, and he lets his eyes flutter closed - something he wouldn’t normally dare to do in a bathtub. 

 

No, not just that - it isn’t something he would  _ ever _ dare to do in a bathtub, especially not if he were naked,  _ and _ with another person. 

 

Because usually, for him, that’s an invitation for something really bad to happen. 

 

“Mama,” he whispers again, and it’s enough to drive away the bad thoughts. For once, he feels safe. It’s a feeling he knows won’t last long, so he tries to relish in it while he can. 

 

As he starts to drift in and out of consciousness, he hears Gwen murmurs something in return. It sounds something like “Baby”, but he can’t really tell. Whatever it really had been, it sounds like an encoded “I love you”. 

 

Despite the heavy fog surrounding him, he smiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the link to the playlist: https://8tracks.com/marshmellowtea/just-sing-me-to-sleep 
> 
> and, if you want more campbell hatred, please check out this playlist i did as well: https://8tracks.com/marshmellowtea/fuck-you-mr-campbell 
> 
> of course, you can always find me at my writing tumblr at twily-writes.tumblr.com ! feel free to check me out sometimes i talk about my projects there lmao.

**Author's Note:**

> ngl, this is kinda venty, so. enjoy my pain lmao.


End file.
